Rising Son
by mrs.aniskywalker
Summary: AU: "Steve Rogers was a great man, greater than any man I ever knew. And he died believing you could be just as great, maybe more...what on earth made you so special?" "Nothin'...I'm just a kid from Brooklyn..." (The first chapter is written in present tense, don't let it deter you)
1. Chapter 1

_**Hey everybody! So, this is an idea that's been floating around in my head since I literally dreamed it up. I'm still gonna be working on the Ryan and Loki Stories, in fact I should have another chapter up soon, and just so we're clear this is a completely different universe then those stories! Anyway, though it may be a bit confusing at first, I hope that you'll enjoy it as it goes on! As always I own nothing!**_

_**Seven Years Ago…**_

_Night. _

_At a S.H.E.I.L.D base in an undisclosed location of the U.S, all is quiet, but not from calm, but from the calm before a storm. _

_Agents outside and inside the base hoist their guns, tense, waiting for the strike they know may come at any moment. Knowing that if it does come, they are the last line of defense. _

_Agent Maria Hill lifts her communicator, her voice taut, trying to hide the raging hope and the growing fear within her. _

"_Sir, are they coming?"_

_Seeming to come from the other edge of the world, Nick Fury's voice crackles through the machine. "Yeah they're comin'."_

_Hill breathes an audible sigh of relief, which dies in midair at Fury's next words: "They're right behind the other guys."_

_Hill closes her eyes, taking in a breath before answering. "Sir, if…if they aren't able to stop the attack…if __**we**__ aren't able to…if-if we fail—"_

"_You __**won't**__ fail." Fury's voice is also tight, evident even through the static of the communicator. "That's an __**order**__ Agent. I don't care what you have to do, but you will fight to __**Doomsday **__if you have to. Do you hear me Hill? You will __**not**__ fail."_

_Hill takes another breath, holds it, and even though she knows he can't see, gives a slow hopeless nod. "Yes sir."_

_She ends her call with Fury, and opens communications with everyone else on the base. Her voice echoes out from speakers on and within the buildings as she walks to her position on the front lines._

"_Alright men, we have at most five minutes to make sure we are at maximum defensive position. Director Fury has informed me that the Avengers are in root but we've no guarantee they'll reach us before the enemy does. I want all units on full alert, if you even __**think**__ you see something coming, you shoot it. I don't want anyone or anything to break through, but remember, if they __**do**__, the removal of Captain Rogers and Project Scion is our __**top**__ priority. Let's move people!"_

_The base is a flurry of activity as guns are checked, positions taken and a crackling force field of purple energy descends down upon the base from the central tower, encasing it in a protective electric bubble. This is some of the most sophisticated technology S.H.E.I.L.D has at its disposal._

_Hill prays it will be enough._

_Silence fills the space before the battle begins. Hill can feel it coming, feel the cold fingers of fear crawling up her back, trying to reach in and grip at her heart. She forces it down, and raises her gun._

_Ten. Nine. Eight._

_She can see the chests of her fellow agents rising, soldiers who had never flinched before trying to fight down panic._

_Seven. Six. Five._

_Her eyes strain, trying to catch a glimpse of something, anything beyond the glowing shield of energy that might be coming their way. Is she imagining that whistling sound?_

_Four. Three. Two…_

_The first bomb __**drops**__._

_It drops right on the apex of the energy shield, trying to crack the tower. Hill watches as white tongues of lighting dance across the purple dome, searching for gaps, trying to create cracks and casting strange dancing shadows on the agents below._

"_They're right on top of us!" An agent has time to scream before the barrage begins in earnest, drowning out all sound except for the whistling of falling bombs and the crashing of lighting._

_The tower, and the energy shield, fall within a matter of minutes. And now something new is falling toward the ground, dark shapes, like black clouds silhouetted against the remaining glow of the lighting._

"_Paratroopers!" Hill cries, and let's her gun's yellow fire loose into the air, the others following without even needing ordered. _

_The paratroopers return fire, and despite the S.H.E.I.L.D agents marksmanship, huge numbers of them still make it to the ground, with many more continuing to stream down from the cloaked, but obviously massive airship above._

_Ground fighting breaks out. Guns that can burn and freeze and vaporize fire shots across the compound, multicolored streaks of light flying in all directions. Sometimes the guns are destroyed, or lost, or even forgotten. And then fist fights breakout, people leaping at each other, rolling on the ground trying to break bones or claw eyes. Grey-blue blurs fighting against black-green ones; trying anything just to subdue their assailants._

_Amidst the chaos, a new figure appears. The firing below her illuminates her face. A beautiful face, but a dark beauty, untouched by light or love. She drifts down from the sky like a terrible angel, her dark hair billowing in the wind as she descends. _

_She hits the ground on her feet, unfazed by the impact. She unhooks her parachute, brushes dust from her tight green uniform, and begins to stride through the combat; apparently unconcerned for her own safety. She passes unharmed through gunfire and brawling men, making her way towards the door of the central bunker._

_Hill, caught up in a skirmish between two enemy combatants, is the first to notice her. She shoots one assailant before swinging her gun around to hammer down on the others head. She drops the heavy weapon as she runs, drawing a small pistol from her belt. She must reach the woman before she breaches the door._

_With a cry worthy of a valkyrie she leaps into the air, raining bullets down on the woman as she approaches the entrance. The woman, alerted by the cry, turns and raises her wrists, metal bands shining with sparks as bullets fly off them._

_Hill descends, crashing into the woman, straddling her chest and pinning her arms to the ground with her knees. She keeps the gun aimed toward the woman's head._

"_Who do you work for?!" She cries over the gunfire. _

_The woman's impassive face breaks into a twisted, languid smile._

"_You know who we are."_

_With that the woman's leg comes up, crashing into the back of Hill's skull. The gun flies from her hand, and her right knee comes up, freeing the woman's fist to come -crashing up into Hill's face. As Hill falls to the side, the woman rises. She reaches into Hill's uniform, takes out a small plastic card and continues the rest of the way to the door. _

_The card is swiped through a slot, the door slowly rises up. Light pours out into the night, silhouetting the woman and illuminating the battle behind her. There is a smirk, a step, and she is inside._

III

_Ten stories below the battle…_

_At the end of a long dimly lit hallway, guarded by fifteen of S.H.E.I.L.D's best agents, a huge steel door stands, solid and strong. Behind the door is a small grayish room. The only pieces of furniture are two chairs, and a hospital bed and I.V., moved there only hours earlier along with the bed's occupant._

_The occupant is in his early thirties. He is a handsome man, well muscled, blonde and blue eyed. He is a good man, caring, loyal, honest and kind. He is a symbol of hope, a person so many people aspire to be…_

_He is also a man whose own body has been slowly killing him for the past five years._

_He lies on the bed, weariness stinging in every bone in his body as he listens to the muffled sounds of explosions far above, yet still audible even in the lowest area of the base. He feels the fluids slowly flowing into his body from the I.V. and sighs. There was a time he would have been one of the men up there, fighting to protect something. Now… now he is the one people are fighting to protect._

_He turns his head to the right, glancing at the small figure huddled next to him, and grants himself a small smile. Well, not the __**only**__ one._

_He reaches his arm around the rooms only other occupant, a boy. He is young, barely ten years old. His youthful face is grim. He is trying to be brave, trying to hide the fear he so obviously feels; because despite his stoic expression, his small shoulders are trembling. _

_The boy looks up, green eyes meeting blue. "Do you think they'll get in Steve?" _

_Steve Rogers pulls the boy closer, resting his head on his chest, and runs a hand through the child's sandy blonde hair. _

"_I dunno kid…maybe…"_

_The boys bites his lip, and moves closer against the side of the man holding him. He is silent for a moment, and then,_

"_W-what'll we do if they do get in? If the 'Vengers can't get us out in time…then what?"_

_Now it is Steve turn for silence. His eyes turn to the ceiling, knowing that somewhere above him, somewhere outside in the gunfire and darkness, people are dying to try and keep him and this child safe. He hopes, he __**prays**__, that those lives being given are not being given in vain._

_He tightens his grip on the boy's shoulders, and raises him up so that he can look him in the eye. When he answers, his voice is stronger than it's been in a long time. _

"_Christopher, I promise you that whatever happens, we'll be __**together**__. Remember that, alright? Even…even if you can't see me, or touch me or hear me…I'll be there for you, ok?"_

_He reaches out a finger and taps the boy's chest, a sad smile crinkling the corner of his tired eyes._

"_Right here."_

_Christopher nods, as though he understands. Steve can see he doesn't. _

_But now there is no time to explain, now there are new explosions, closer now, and coming even more so. Cries come down the hall; there are sounds of struggling, shooting, dying .Right outside their door._

_And now, there is silence. One terrible, horrible, grating moment of silence, in which Steve once again pulls Christopher close to his chest. He has just enough time to whisper-_

"_Together, __**always**__."_

_And then the silence is shattered as the steel door is __**blown**__ off its hinges._

III

_It's the noise that awakens her, the whirling, whining noise that comes down from the sky and only ceases when it lands next to her._

_The next thing Maria Hill knows is a pair of cold metal arms gripping her, smoothing back her hair from her face. _

_A mechanically altered voice cuts through the fog in her head, bringing her out of the dark of unconsciousness and back into the dark of night and battle. She looks out at the fray, and as her sight returns she can see the tide has turned. _

_The Hulk and the Asgardian are taking huge numbers with each blow of a fist or strike of a hammer. Barton is shooting down the paratroopers before they're even near the ground, and Romanov is leading the rest of the agents in driving back those left over._

_And Tony Stark is calling out her name as he lifts her from the ground._

"_Hill, Hill you still with me?"_

_She looks up into the shining metal face before her, and struggles to speak, wets her mouth and spits out the blood. _

"_S-Stark…they got in…"_

_In less than a second she's been traded into the arms of a nearby agent, and the man of iron is shooting into the open door way and down the hallway, the flames of his rockets leaving scorch marks in the walls and floor._

_She hopes without hope that he'll be fast enough._

III

_The woman looks into the room, taking in the sight of the man and child lying on the bed. She steps over the body of agent, (one of the many in a long trail behind her), and into the room._

"_So…" she says, eyeing the pair. "__**You**__ are the famous Captain America?" _

_She scoffs, as if she doesn't believe the words. She begins to move around the bed, slowly, calmly, like a snake trying to calm its prey before it strikes. She speaks slowly too, almost conversationally, but there is venom in her voice, flowing just beneath the surface, poisoning every word._

"_You know I grew up hearing stories about you, about all the times you save the day, the world…Now look at you, __**dying,**__ in a __**hole,**__ like the __**vermin **__you are!"_

"_**Shut up**__!"_

_She glares at the boy who has dared to speak out at her. Her hand flies out, and the flat of her hand crashes against his face._

_With a cry of pain, he falls to the floor, a hand clasped to his stinging cheek._

_She sneers, and turns back to the once great man lying on the bed, and her sneer falters. She did not know such blue eyes could contain such dark and burning __**fury**__. Without even meaning to, she takes a step backwards._

"_Lady…" the captain's voice is soft as a whisper, and cold as iron. He is no longer lying exhausted on the mattress, but is gripping the bars of the bed, lifting himself up so that he could look at her eye to eye._

"_I don't usually hold with hitting women, but in your case…"_

_His hand reaches behind him, grasping at something under his pillow. The woman notices, and without taking her eyes off of the man before her, begins to reach for her pistol…_

"_I'll make an __**exception**__!"_

_She has a split second for her eyes to register a blur of whirling red, white and blue before there is a clash on metal on skull, and then there is only pain, and blackness._

III

_Steve's head falls back down upon the bed, worn out beyond anything he'd felt for years. His breath comes out in short gasps, beads of sweat roll down his face. He can feel his chest contracting painfully, and knows there must not be much time left._

_He turns his head, and reaches a hand down to where Christopher had fallen. He feels the small hand slip into his, and allows himself a tight smile as the child's face reappears, red and tear stained, but otherwise unharmed._

"_Hey…" his voice sounds tight and raspy, and he grips the child's hand tightly. "You ok?" _

_There is a nod, and the boy crawls back onto the bed, casting a quick glance at the fallen woman lying crumpled on the floor. _

"_Y-yeah…yeah I'm ok…You?"_

_Steve's heart sinks as he ponders how to answer this question. How badly he wants to lie, to tell him it'll be alright._

"_I…" _

_He shakes his head. No… _

_He reaches out, cupping the boys face in his hands. There's so much he wants to say, and so little time to say it. He struggles with himself, and finally opens his mouth, willing whatever _

"_Chris…promise me, promise me that no matter what happens…you'll __**never**__ forget who you are… I hoped I'd have more time with you…but it's your turn now."_

_The boy's green eyes stare at him in confusion, and growing fear._

"_Wha-What do you mean?"_

_Steve smiles, a smile mixed of sadness and love, and pulls the boy's head down close to his, placing a kiss on his forehead. _

"_You're __**my **__hero Chris… and I know you're going to be a __**great**__ Captain America… I love you kid."_

_He gives up one long sigh, as if exhaling a lifetime of weariness in one breath… and then Steve Rogers, Captain America, truly became the Man out of Time._

_Christopher's green eyes widen, his head shakes in disbelief, his body shakes from racking sobs that are growing from somewhere deep inside him, threatening to overwhelm his small frame. He falls onto the still chest of the man, his fists clenching at Steve shirt, his eyes watering it with his tears, his muffled voice begging, __**pleading **__for him to __**come back**__. _

_A noise outside the door alerts Christopher that he is no longer alone. Not caring if the noise comes from friend or foe, not caring for anything except the fact that his world has been forever shattered; he raises his face to stare with bleary eyes at the stunned face of Tony Stark._

"_You're too late…" He manages to whisper around the lump in his throat threatening to choke him. "He's __**gone**__…"_

III

**NOW…**

A tall, sandy haired teenager stood on the hill before the simple tombstone, ignoring the multicolored bursts of fireworks and cheering coming from the nearby park. His green eyes took in the words inscribed on the stone as the bursting lights illuminated them.

**Steven Grant Rogers**

**July 4****th**** 1922-August 8****th**** 2017**

**Son and Soldier**

Christopher 'Chris' St. Just smiled at the simple epitaph, he knew Steve would have appreciated it more than that huge monument they'd given him in Arlington. He sat down in front of the stone, and placed a small bouquet of white roses next to it.

"Hi Steve, sorry I'm late…"

_**Well, there you have it! I hope you like the first chapter! More to come soon I hope! Reviews are always welcome!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**So, here we are, Chapter Two! I'm really excited to do this story because I've been wanting to for a long time, so I'm happy at how quickly it's progressing! I own nothing, (well, except for Chris and a few other OCs…)Enjoy!**_

"Hi Steve, sorry I'm late…"

Chris St. Just addressed the headstone before him, giving it a small smile as he absently picked at the grass. The scene was lit by the bursts of fireworks from the park next to the cemetery, cries of '"Happy Fourth of July!" drifting up now and then, breaking the calm and silence of the graves.

"It took me a bit longer to get away this time, they like to keep close tabs on me, you know?"

He adjusted the bouquet of roses, and exhaled a sigh, "Anyway, I can't stay long. With my luck Carter's already noticed I'm missing and sent a platoon out after me…but I just wanted to stop by and…well wish you a Happy Birthday I guess…"

He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to think of something else to say. Each year it seemed to be harder to find something new to tell, his life had become so…routine.

"Um, let's see…Carter's still crazy, she made me do fifty crunches the other day because I slept passed five A.M. Uh, what else… I'm turning eighteen in a few months, so that's pretty cool. Bet you'd never have guessed Fury'd put up with me this long huh?"

A shadow fell over Chris's shoulder, and a voice from behind him grumbled,

"We're_ all_ surprised he has. Especially since you keep disobeying his orders on such a regular basis."

Chris turned to look over his shoulder at the S.H.E.I.L.D agent scowling down at him, arms crossed in a familiar gesture of annoyance and frustration.

"Hey Piper, you guys are improving. That only took you what, ten minutes?"

The agent shook his head in exasperation, and reached down to grab Chris's arm, pulling him up onto his feet.

"Come on kid, let's go."

Chris gave the man a beseeching glance, "Can…can I just say goodbye?"

Agent Piper gave Chris a long look, before rolling his eyes and nodding. He let go of Chris's arm, and jerked his thumb at a dark van waiting outside the cemetery gate. "You've got three minutes to be in that car before we _drag_ you into it. Make it quick."

Chris gave the man a salute, which both of them knew was only half serious, and turned back to the headstone.

"Goodbye Steve… sorry I couldn't stay longer."

He glanced over his shoulder to see if Agent Piper was still within earshot before he whispered,

"I'll try to stay longer next year... "

And with that promise, he turned his back on the cemetery and headed for the car full of waiting agents.

He opened the door and slid into the passenger seat as Agent Piper started up the car. They drove silently along back roads and alleys, no one in the car bothering to speak to anyone else. There was no need to; they'd been through this same ritual every year for the past seven years.

As they reached an empty parking lot a sigh escaped from Agent Piper. "Kid… You can't keep doing this. You know you're not supposed to leave the base without permission and every time you _do_ you just make more work for us and more trouble for you. Do you _want_ Fury to kick you out of the program?"

"No…" Chris groaned as he unbuckled himself and opened the car door. The agents followed suit and the group began walking toward a dirty manhole cover in the middle of the parking lot.

"Then _why _do you keep this up? You know you could just ask for_ permission_ to visit the grave. Would that really be _so_ hard to do?"

"It's not that it's just—" Chris's sentence was cut off as he bent down to help Piper pull the cover off the man hole. He handed it to the agent designated to keep a lookout for pedestrians, and began to descend down the ladder, the agents following after him.

"Look kid… is this one of those 'cry for attention' things?" Piper asked as he dropped down next to Chris.

Chris shook his head, "No—look, I'm sorry, can we just not talk about it?" He turned from the man and began walking down the dim sewer sidewalk.

The last of the agents entered the sewer, fixing the manhole back into place. The group hurried after Chris, lighting the darkness with pocket flashlights and illuminating a large round door at the end of the tunnel.

As agents began to turn the wheel to open it, Piper placed a hand on Chris shoulder. "Look, I get it. You're a teenager, you want more freedom. You want to feel like you're in charge of your life. But you've got to understand that it's a bit different for you, you've got more responsibility then most teenagers, more's expected of you—"

"Exactly!" Chris cut in as the agents hurried him into the small room behind the door, shutting it behind them and dowsing the group in darkness. For about half a second. Then the crowded room gave a rumbling shudder, and began to slowly descend, lights flashing past as they traveled far beneath the city streets.

"Everyone keeps telling me how much they expect from me but nobody gives me a chance to _meet_ those expectations!"

Piper raised an eyebrow, surprised at Chris's answer. This wasn't the complaint one usually heard from stressed seventeen year olds. All the ones he'd met usually complained they had _too much_ responsibility. But then, Chris had never really had the chance to be a usual teenager…

"What do you mean? You've past all your examinations, aced every test…Heck if I'd done that well at meeting my _parents_ expectations in high school do you think I'd be working_ here_? In a job where I only have to see them _twice_ a year? You're doing great kid!"

"But that's just it!" Chris sighed in frustration. "I _can_ do the job, but nobody will _let _me do it!"

The elevator-room came to a halt, the door opening automatically to revel a huge brightly light complex stretching out before the group. They exited quickly, and the elevator slowly began to rise back to its original position.

"How can they expect me to be Captain America and protect the country if the only thing I ever see of it is the S.H.E.I.L.D sewer base?!"

"I prefer to call it the Turtle Lair." Piper replied with a grin.

"It's called the Strategic Homeland Underground Sanctuary Housing." A deep voice from behind the pair interrupted. "And let me guess, it's security has once again been compromised with one of Mr. St Just's little fieldtrips?"

Chris and Agent Piper cringed, and slowly turned around to meet the gaze of a very annoyed, very intimidating, Nick Fury.

Fury stood legs apart, arms crossed. His good eye glaring out at Chris and the group of agents surrounding him. The tall blonde woman in white uniform standing next to him looked equally displeased at the scene before her, and she shot Chris a particularly scathing look.

"Director Fury!" Piper cried in shock, quickly coming to attention. "I uh- I didn't know you'd be here today! You weren't due for another week!"

"A surprise inspection. Tell me Piper, am I correct in assuming that Mr. St Just has once again disobeyed his direct orders to remain at the base and under supervision unless granted permission to do otherwise by myself or Agent 13?"

Fury gestured at the woman beside him, who's frown deepened. Agent Piper gulped, and nodded in affirmation.

" Uh…Yes, we uh…we found the boy out at the local cemetery Sir. He was—"

"Paying my respects to Captain Rogers sir." Chris cut in as he stepped in front of Piper, himself coming to attention. "I'm aware of my misconduct and regret any distress I may have caused. I'm prepared to accept any disciplinary action you see fit."

Fury stared at the boy for a long moment. Chris returned the gaze, with no sign of disrespect, but no sigh of looking away in shame of his actions either. Finally, Fury closed his eye with a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Go with Agent 13 back to your quarters, I'll decide on a punishment later…"

Chris nodded, saluted, and allowed himself to be dragged off by the angry blonde woman, who berated him through clenched teeth as they departed down a hallway.

Fury watched them go for a moment before turning back to Piper. "What are we gonna with that kid?"

Piper shrugged, shaking his head. "I dunno, we can't really _ground_ him. He never does anything but train and he never goes anywhere but here—"

"Except for when he pulls stuff like this."

"Yup…"

The two men stood silently for a moment, glancing down the now empty hallway. Finally, Fury turned back to Piper, and asked:

"What I want to know Agent is how he managed to get past our 'crack security team' _once again_? Because if I was to find out it was because one of our agents, _especially _our new head of base security, was _once again_ playing _Galaga _when he was _supposed_ to be working…"

Fury began walking away, giving a now perspiring Piper a pat on the shoulder as he did so, "Well, let's just say it wouldn't go over very well."

Piper gave an unquestionably shaky nod.

III

Chris was shoved roughly into his room. He stumbled, and took a moment to regain his balance before turning to face the irate woman behind him.

" Just _what_ did you _think _you were _doing_?!" she hissed, slamming the door behind her as she entered.

Chris began to open his mouth to reply, but her hand shot up, cutting him off.

"Don't you interrupt me boy! I_ know_ what you were thinking. You _weren't_!"

She began to pace the floor like a cage wildcat, the anger emanating from her almost tangible.

"You weren't thinking of the danger you were putting the base in, putting yourself in! S.H.E.I.L.D has spent too much money and gone through too much trouble just for you to end up getting yourself killed by some Brooklyn _thug_ while out on a joyride!"

"Sharon I think I could handle-"

The woman whirled around, eyes blazing. "Hey! What did I say about interrupting?! And you call me _Agent Carter_ alright?! Agent _Carter_, Agent _13_, or _ma'm_! Got it?!"

Chris gave a quick nod, "Yes ma'm. Sorry ma'm."

Agent Carter seemed to be _slightly_ pacified by this, and she returned the nod. "Good. Now, you sit there. I'm going to go find out what Director Fury's decided to do with you. And you can bet that whatever it is won't be half as bad as the workout I'm planning on giving you tomorrow!"

And with that she opened the door, slammed it once again, and stomped down the hall.

Chris heaved a sigh of relief as he fell onto his bed. "That…could have gone _a lot_ worse…"

He rolled over, burying his face in his pillow. He figured he better get what sleep he could before Agent Carter came back with his punishment. He was just about to drift off when he heard a small but insistant knock on his door.

"Come in!" he called, the words muffled by his pillow. The door opened, and a young girl who resembled a younger, softer, smiling twelve year old version of Agent Carter bounced in.

"Hi Chris! They caught you again huh?"

Chris lifted his head and smiled at the girl as she flopped down onto the bed, taking seat near the foot.

"Yup. They did. Your aunt almost bit my head off too."

The girl grinned. "I'll bet! Did you get anything good from up top?"

Rolling his eyes, Chris ruffled the girl's hair. "Shannon, I went to a _cemetery_. There's not really much to bring back except flowers."

Shannon shrugged, "Hey, something's better than nothing."

Just then another figure appeared at the door. She too was a young blonde woman, older than Shannon, more around Chris's age. She was panting, and leaned against the doorway out of breath. She had apparently rushed to the room from somewhere further across the complex. She pointed an accusing finger at Chris, an accusing _green _finger.

"You snuck out again!" she cried, having finally caught her breath.

"So people keep telling me."

The girl glared at Chris' curt remark. "Why don't you ever take me?! Do you realize I've lived in New York my _entire life_ and I've_ never_ seen the Empire State Building?! It's enough to make a girl cry!"

"What do you want me to do L'issa? You're not exactly the easiest girl to sneak around Brooklyn."

L'issa rolled her eyes at this explanation. "Oh _please_, it's _New York_! These people have seen everything. I really don't think one chick with a 'rare skin condition' would cause that much of a stir."

L'issa Kent was not a girl with a 'rare skin condition'. She was however entirely, completely, _green_. The product of a previous Skrull invasion, the half alien girl had been abandoned by her mother's people for her human genes just has her father had abandoned her because of her alien ones. Seeing potential in having a shape-shifting alien on _their _side, S.H.E.I.L.D had taken the girl in, and raised her in the hopes of gaining the perfect undetectable spy.

They'd gotten a young woman who could shape shift for exactly three hours before she gave in under the strain, and who despite her early childhood trauma was perfectly comfortable in resembling a blonde Wicked Witch of the West. Not exactly perfect spy material, but by then it had been too late. And so she'd been given to the care of the agents at the Strategic Homeland Underground Sanctuary Housing, to be raised alongside Chris and later Shannon. Nick Fury was often heard to complain on his visits that the complex was less of a secret training facility and more of a high profile daycare.

Chris shook his head at his friend's complaints. "If you're so hot to see the city why don't you sneak out yourself?"

"Because unlike _you_, _I'm _smart! _You_ sneak out every year on the same day and get caught, and then you get extra work._ I_ do not sneak out every year, and so I pass under everyone's radar. Thus, when the opportune moment arises, I have _surprise_ on my side!"

"And you're afraid of Aunt Sharon." Shannon cut in.

L'issa glared at the girl, but then nodded. "Yeah… and I'm afraid of her."

"Who isn't…?" Chris asked with a whistle.

III

Meanwhile, in a conference room on the other side of the complex…

"I'm just saying, he feels frustrated! He wants to do more and feels like we don't have faith in him to be able to do it."

"Well can you blame us?" Agent Carter asked as she turned to look at Piper. "He frequently disobeys orders—"

"Once a year is _not_ frequently. You can't deny that apart from his little Fourth of July excursions he's a model of discipline! He's passed every test we've thrown at him, he knows every training exercise by heart…there's not much more he can do in here! He wants to prove himself in the real world!"

"And what does he know about the '_real world'_?" Carter asked in annoyance. "He doesn't know anything about how it feels to see your fellow soldiers, your _friends _being shot down left and right! He may be able to play Captain here but he's still just a teenager, you put him out in the 'real world'… and he'll _choke_."

She turned to Fury, who so far in the conversation had remained uncharacteristically silent.

"Director Fury knows my feelings on the matter. I was against Project Scion from the beginning. But I've held back my reservations and done as he asked. I've trained Christopher, I've taught him, I know him better than anyone else here. And I say he's not ready. Besides, we all know he's still at least three years away from his maximum potential result… and even then…"

Piper sighed. He had to admit that Carter had a point. The kid may do well in the training rooms, but in the real thing? Still, Chris had a valid argument as well. How could he ever get real experience if they never gave him anything real _to_ experience?

"Director? What do you think?"

Both agents turned to look at Fury, who sat with his hands clasped in front of him, thoughtful, and silent. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak, when an agent burst into the room, waving a paper in his hand anxiously, a worried look on his face.

"Sir!" The agent said, marching up and handing the paper to Fury. "This just came in from Reconnaissance."

As Fury's eyes scanned the paper, his expression darkened. He was silent a moment more, before addressing the two, not bothering to look up from whatever bad news had been brought to him.

"What do I think? I think our boy may be about to get his chance to prove we should give him one. Bring him up here. We've got a lot to talk about."

_**Aaand…end Chap Two! Well I hope you all enjoyed it. I know there must be some questions but please stay tuned, all shall be reveled in time! Please feel free to review!**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Whoo! Chapter three! Finally. Sorry it took so long. Anyway, now that this is done I'll finish up the next 'Uncle Loki' chapter hopefully within the week. But with school starting up, it may be a little while. Anyway, hope you like, I own nothing, and reviews are always welcome!**_

Chris was still play-arguing with L'issa while an amused Shannon looked on, when Piper appeared at the door. The trio turned to glance at the man, and their voices fell at the solemn look on his face.

"Come on kid, Director Fury wants to talk to you."

A little alarmed at the seriousness of the man's tone, Chris hesitated; but with a nod from L'issa he stood, and giving the girls shaky grin, followed the man out of the room.

Shannon watched for a moment as the two men disappeared around the corner, before declaring:

"Yep, he's dead meat."

L'issa gave the girl a cuff on the back of the head.

III

Fury's back was turned away from Chris when Piper led him into conference room. Chris gulped, wondering how the director managed to make it feel like he was staring you down even when he wasn't looking at you. With a nudge from Piper, Chris slowly walked until he was parallel with the imposing man, not daring to look up at him.

"You um…" Chris's voice was unusually quiet and wavering. He took a breath to steady it before continuing. "You wanted to see me sir?"

Fury continued to stare out the large window before them and down into the complex, giving no sign he'd heard or even noticed the young man. Chris looked back over his shoulder to where Agent Piper and Agent Carter were staring at him, their faces somber and, in Carter's case, even more aggravated looking than usual.

Chris gulped again, as Piper's earlier words came back to him: "_Do you want Fury to kick you out of the program?_"…

Chris felt his stomach drop, and his throat tighten with sudden anxiety. They wouldn't really take him out of the program? _Would _they? Just for going up to the cemetery a few times? No, no they wouldn't. They _couldn't_! Carter had said it herself, S.H.E.I.L.D had spent too much time and money on him just to try and start over now. Besides, they weren't heartless…probably. They wouldn't just hand him his stuff in a duffle bag and kick him out on the street… Right?

Chris's worried musings were interrupted when Fury suddenly began to speak. "Mr. St Just, do you remember a man by the name of Brian van Patrick?"

Chris's mind whirled as he attempted to come up with an answer, still not sure exactly where this conversation was heading. After what felt like a very long three seconds, he was forced to confess

"Um, no sir."

Fury nodded, as if he'd expected this reply. "Mr. van Patrick was around a lot back in the early days of the project, mostly before you came on. You do however know the name 'Abraham Erskine'?"

Relieved at finally being able to answer, Chris nodded with enthusiasm. "It was Dr. Erskine who discovered the Vita-Rays and created the super-serum that enabled Captain Rogers to become the first super-soldier."

"First and _only_," Fury put in, finally turning to face Chris. "Until _you_."

He looked Chris up and down, as though he was seeing something the young man could not. He began to walk around the table, motioning for Chris and the others to follow him.

"Erskine's untimely death put an end to the super-soldier program. He was a brilliant man with a brilliant mind. Unfortunately, he kept most of his notes_ in_ that mind. As such no one else was ever able to truly replicate his formula. Oh there were attempts over the years, but all the patients either _died_ or…well you've met Dr. Banner and I'm assuming you've seen footage of Blonski? "

Chris nodded, trying not to think to hard about what he'd seen in that footage.

"After so many failed attempts, most people were willing to give up. Then of course we found the Captain frozen in that iceberg and that got people all excited again. Here was a man, a_ legend_, who by all accounts should have been dead long ago. But he _wasn't_. And it wasn't just because of the ice either."

Fury turned the last corner of the table, and began walking out the door, the trio behind him hurrying to match his long strides. Fury, oblivious to this, went on. "

The serum had kept him alive through all those years, and _that_ was something to get wound up about. Something that didn't just grant you superior strength and endurance, but actually _increased_ and _sustained_ life, even under such intense conditions as Rogers was under during those seventy years. People wanted to study him of course, they thought they'd found the secret to eternal life…course what they actually found was far from it. "

Chris, who was the only one able to keep in step with Fury, suddenly stopped. He knew where this was going now.

"They found out the continued pressure from the ice had caused his cells to over work trying to keep him alive all those years. The serum was killing him."

Fury, who had stopped himself to look at the boy, nodded.

"When we found out, he'd only been active modernly for a few years. But the differences he was making were astounding. He could do things no one else could, or would. We knew that we couldn't risk losing such valuable asset again."

"So you started Project Scion." Chris cut in. He knew this part by heart.

Fury nodded, and continued walking down the hallway. "We brought together a team of the most brilliant scientist on the planet, including Dr. Banner. We were determined to recreate the serum, and to get it _right_ this time. We knew we only had at best five years before we lost the Captain for good. At first, we tried to replicate the serum in hopes of curing Rogers' cellular degeneration. When that failed, we decided to try out…other options."

Fury halted as he came to a door at the end of the hall. He held up his hand, and let the scanner run over it. There was an appreciative beep, and the door slide open, a gust of cold air blowing into the hallway. Fury motioned the others inside, and the door slide closed behind them.

The room they had entered was much larger than the one they'd left. A huge holo-screen took up an entire wall, displaying a panoramic view of the North American continent with a variety of lines and dots intersecting across it.

Agents in the room mulled about at various jobs, stopping briefly to salute Director Fury as he walked over to a table in the center of the room. He clicked a few buttons, and a 3-D image of a man probably in his late thirties with a dark mustache and a balding head appeared above the projector sticking out of the table.

"This," Fury said, pointing at the man as he rotated above them. "Is Mr. Brian van Patrick. He's a noted health instructor and owns one of the country's largest organic food companies. He's also Dr. Erskine's grandson."

Fury tapped a few more buttons, and a detailed array of personal information about Mr. van Patrick joined his hologram in the air.

"S.H.E.I.L.D tracked him down back in the early days of the Project, hoping he'd be able to provide us with any notes of Erskine's that might have been passed down thru the family. And we hit the jackpot. Turns out old Erskine had concocted an alternative method to producing a super-soldier had been deemed to slow in gaining results, prompting him to begin his work with Vita-Rays and the serum. Lucky for us the notes for the original procedure were never discarded, and ended up with Mr. van Patrick here. The only thing was-"

"It would take a lifetime for a patient of the process to reach maximum potential." Cut in Chris, remembering the words the agents had used when they were explaining things to him so many years ago.

"Exactly. Obviously we couldn't use this method on a grown man, even one as young as twenty. He'd be almost forty by the time we were done. So we decided to—"

"Try it with a _child_."

This time it wasn't Chris who'd interpreted, it was Agent Carter, a sour look crossing her face as she remembered the meeting that had birthed that decision.

"A decision I was, and still am, firmly against." She said, coming up to sit at the table. She turned to Fury with a glare. "As well, may I remind you, was _Captain Rogers_."

Fury narrowed his eye at the woman, but continued with the story. "That's true. Captain Rogers was against using a child for the project. However, he wisely realized that S.H.E.I.L.D had both the ability and the resolve to do so with or without his approval, and so agreed to get on board, under the condition that—"

"That he gotta pick the kid!"

Fury turned to glare at Piper, who shrank back at the gaze, shrugging. "What? You let everyone else interrupt? I don't get to be a part of this? After all _I_ was the one in charge of _finding_ a kid!"

Fury rolled his eye, and turned back to Chris. "As you know, we went through several candidates, all eight to nine, and all orphans with no better prospects ahead of them then a lifetime in foster care. But only one stuck out…You. Steve saw something in you that he liked… and you know the rest."

Chris nodded, not really trusting himself to speak. His mind was caught up in the day that the agents had taken him to meet the real live Captain America. Steve had only recently begun to slow down then, and he still looked to Chris like the lively, active man he'd watched so many times on the news on the orphanage TV.

Chris had been too shy to speak at first, but Steve had been so kind and attentive to him that he soon found himself opening up to the man. They'd talked for what seemed like hours about everything and nothing at all. Steve had laughed at his jokes and smiled at his stories, and made him laugh and smile in return.

Chris hadn't wanted to leave when the agents came back to get him, but Steve had promised that they'd get to talk again soon, and had given the boy a picture of him that he'd drawn during their interview (Chris knew now that that was what it had been) and he still had it on the mirror in his room.

Almost the next day he'd been legally taken into S.H.E.I.L.D custody, and begun his training. He had been so overwhelmed and excited at the prospect of being picked to become his hero, that at first he hadn't stopped to think exactly what was going to have to happen to Steve in order for him to take his place.

He'd just been happy that he got to spend time with the man, listening to his old war stories and learning how to draw. At the bad times, when his training was getting him down, he wondered if he'd ever really be able to live up to and make Steve proud of him. At the good times, he wondered if this was what having a Dad felt like.

Those good times had ended all too soon.

He never spoke of it, but he still had nightmares of it sometimes. That terrible night when the old base had come under attack from unknown assailants. That awful woman who'd come to try and steal Steve away to do who knew _what_ to him. Steve's last stand that had cost him his life, and for _what_? The woman had refused to answer any questions, and had eventually escaped along with many of her companions. All these years later, and S.H.E.I.L.D had still failed to track them down or discover their employers.

After that night, everything had just seemed…bleaker. He'd been moved into the underground base soon after the funeral, and given into the reluctant custody of Agent Carter. His days, once lightened by Steve's presence, now slipped into an endless monotony of training exercises and preparations to take up a position he could never hope to fill. No matter how much he wanted to. Not for himself, but for Steve. To make Steve proud of him, to prove to Steve that he hadn't died in vain.

Chris shook his head, trying to brush away the memories and emotions. He was a _soldier_; he would make Steve proud by _acting_ like one and _not_ letting his emotions distract him from the moment at hand.

"Sir," he asked, his voice calm, yet questioning. "With all due respect, I know all this. Well, I didn't know about van Patrick's involvement, but still…Why revue this now?"

In answer, Fury pulled up a hologram of a young man, about Chris's age. He was tall and athletically built, with wavy brown hair and green eyes that were slightly crinkled by a cocky smile. He was wearing a t-shirt with the letters MVP stamped across it, and was holding a football in his left hand, apparently about to throw it at some unseen recipient.

"This is Michael van Patrick, he's Mr. van Patrick's son. He's seventeen years old and currently holds his school record for…well pretty much anything sports related you can think of. He's already got several top schools vying for him and apparently, according to an inside source is…."

Fury looked down at a piece of paper he'd pulled from his pocket, frowning as he read the words written on it.

"The top wolf on campus. The life of the party. The…" Fury's eyebrow rose up as he read the next line. "The bomb-diggity…"

Agent Piper desperately tried to turn his snort of laughter into a cough, with mixed results.

Chris stared up at the hologram in obvious confusion. "So…what does this have to do with me?"

Fury sighed, and sat down at the table, lacing his fingers as he did so.

"We have paid little attention to the van Patricks since Mr. van Patrick left the project seven years ago. He signed documents promising to never reveal his knowledge of Project Scion or his involvement in it, and so far he has kept that promise. However, recent routine surveillance of the van Patricks, particularly Michael, has led us to believe that Mr. van Patrick may have sought to duplicate the results of Project Scion… with his own son."

Chris's eyes widened and he looked back at the hologram with renewed interest. There was another boy who had abilities like his? The thought was…confusing. He'd always thought of himself as…unique. The idea that there might be someone else out with similar attributes was both compelling, and disturbing.

"He wanted to make another super soldier?" Chris asked, his voice barely audible.

Fury shook his head. "We don't think so. From what we can tell Mr. van Patrick was simply curious to know if the results of the process could be achieved using another subject. We're reasonably that he has no ulterior motive, and that Michael has no idea of his great-grandfather's legacy or Project Scion."

Now Fury's brow furrowed and his voice became very serious. "The same cannot be said for others. We always knew despite our security measures there was a chance that rumors of the project had been leaked out to enemies of S.H.E.I.L.D. We knew that if that happened, we'd be hard pressed to stop them trying to take the research for themselves. To many of our agents are known, to many have been compromised over the past seven years…ever since the Avengers split up…well… we've been barely holding our ground as it is…"

He looked around at the agents in the room, his expression unreadable. "We know that certain parties better off in the dark may have gotten wind of the project, specifically Mr. van Patrick's involvement in it. We believe that these parties have been monitoring the van Patricks, and that they have erroneously concluded that Michael is the end result of Project Scion. We have intelligence that these parties may try to recruit Michael, either by persuasion or force, into joining them."

Fury turned his eye on Chris, and Chris felt a chill run down his back. The last time Fury had looked at him like this, he'd been informing him that he'd been chosen as the next Captain America.

"Agent Piper has informed me that you feel we don't give you enough to do around here. That may be true, or it may not. At any rate you're getting a chance to prove you're ready to do more than _train_ to be a member of S.H.E.I.L.D. As I said before, to many of our agents have been comprised. So, I've decided to give you an opportunity. I want you go undercover at Michael van Patrick's school. I want you to befriend him, gain his trust, and keep an eye out for any suspicious behavior. When the time comes, S.H.E.I.L.D will move in."

Chris's eyes widened, he could barely believe what he was hearing. "Y-you're giving me an assignment? _Outside_…in a _high school_?"

Fury nodded, and mingled cries of disbelief and shock escaped from Agents Piper and Carter.

"But sir! You can't just send him out on his own! He doesn't know how to fit in at a high school! He doesn't know what music is in or what clicks to avoid or-"

"I just told you he's not ready for an assignment! He's irresponsible, he's undisciplined! He'll blow the whole thing before he even walks through the door! And besides, we destroyed his birth records when we brought him in, remember?! He won't even be able to register! He-"

Fury raised a hand, effectively silencing the outbursts. " Piper, we've trained the boy in how to handle over a hundred different war scenarios, I think we can train him on how to handle a bunch of hormonal pubescents. Besides, I have no doubt that you'll get him caught up to speed on music and computer games well before school starts. Carter, we're a top secret government espionage agency. I think we can fake a birth record. And besides, what better way to teach him some responsibility…then to give him some?"

Fury turned back to Chris, smiling for the first time that day. "Well, what do you say Mr. St Just? Are you ready and willing to serve your country, despite having to do homework while you do it?"

Chris was silent for a moment. It…wasn't exactly the mission he'd been hoping for…but then if Steve was to be believed, he'd spent his first few months as Captain singing and dancing across America. It wasn't what he'd expected, but it _was_ a _real_ mission, and that was good enough.

He stood at attention, saluting the director. "Sir, I am."

Fury's smile broadened, and he nodded approvingly at the boy. "Very good soldier. Now…" He said, turning back to the pair of sulking agents behind him. "There is the matter of securing some parents for this kid to help his cover…"

Both agents stared at Fury in confusion, and then _horror_ as his words sank in.

"Oh,_ no_. No no no no no!" Agent Carter exclaimed, waving a finger at Fury. "I _do_ my part! I train the kid, that 's it! I'm an agent of S.H.E.I.L.D ! I'm not going to go to _PTA meetings_ and _fundraisers_ and pretended to be married to-to- _him_!"

She shot Agent Piper a look of obvious disgust. "I mean, he's a _grown man_ who still plays _video games_ on the job for heaven's sake!"

"Well _I'm_ not too happy about having to pretend to be married to an _icy she-wolf_ who wouldn't know how to have feelings if she caught them as a virus!" Piper shot back. "And for your information, Galaga is very relaxing! It helps me unwind!"

Chris looked over at Fury as the two continued to snipe at each other. The director waved him off, with an expression that simply said, "I can handle them." Chris nodded, gave another salute, and headed out the door back to his room. He had a lot to tell the girls about, and only two months to prepare for the big day.

He wondered if the military look was '_in_' in high school. He hoped so; he didn't really have anything else.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi everybody! Sorry this chapter took so long to upload, what with school and stuff, I haven't had a lot of time for writing. But things are slacking off now that midterms are over, so I should be able to upload more often. I'll probably have the next chapter of 'Uncle Loki' up either this week or next! Anyway, enjoy, I own nothing, and reviews are always appreciated!**

Chris tugged at the collar of his t-shirt as he sat in the back of the car. His stomach was churning, the tips of his fingertips felt like there were pins jabbing into him, and he was seriously considering telling Agent Carter to stop the car so he could throw up. Only, he was afraid if he opened his mouth he'd do it all over the backseat.

Piper, sitting up front in the passenger seat, turned around and offered Chris an understanding smile.

"Hey kid, you doing ok back there? You like the shirt?"

Not trusting himself to speak, and trying to keep his Ready-To-Eat, military standard breakfast down, Chris simply nodded. Then closed his eyes and lay his head against the seat, wondering why all his combat stress training was deserting him _now_. He tugged at his shirt again.

The t-shirt had been given to him that morning as a sort of 'First Mission' present from Piper and some of the other agents in the base. "We thought it was appropriate, you know…"

It was a Captain America t-shirt. Blue, with a picture of the famous shield embossed on it. He'd been truly touched, at the time. Now he just felt like he had a big _target_ printed on his chest.

"Hey," this time is was Agent Carter who spoke, in a tone decidedly less comforting. "If you're gonna puke, roll down the window or suck it up. You can't afford to have cold feet now. We just spent the last few months recreating/ falsifying your birth records. Not to mention all the nonsense I've had to put up with from the others about _Piper_."

"You're just sore Director Fury didn't make me take _your _name." Piper said with a smirk, turning back to Chris. "I think your 'Mom' is just grumpy because she stayed up to late packing her utility belt, huh kid?"

"_We are not really married_!"

Carter's exclamation was punctuated by the squeal of the car's tires as she swerved sharply into a parking space; the force of which caused Chris to grip his stomach in a desperate attempt to save the car's interior, and Piper's head to slam into the dashboard.

"Ok, we're here. Everybody out!"

The car doors opened and the trio emerged, Piper still rubbing his head and glaring daggers Carter.

"If this turns into a goose egg, I'm going to tell Fury you're an abusive spouse."

"Oh suck it up and be a man Agent. Like you've never sustained a head injury before. Or five…"

Chris shook his head, turning away from the sniping pair to gaze up at the building that seemed to loom above him. Midtown High was a four story brick edifice that boasted a planetarium, a 'living museum', and supposedly the best cafeteria food in the tri-state area. All in all, it was a top notch school, a place where students felt privileged to attend.

Right now Chris felt he'd rather be dropped off on the front lines of a major border dispute then walk thru those doors.

"Well, come on St. Just." Agent Carter called out, having apparently ended the dispute, (and won, if the sour look on Agent Piper's face was any indication). "Let's get this thing over with."

It was embarrassing to admit, but Chris had never seen Agent Carter wearing anything but her S.H.E.I.L.D uniform or fatigues in the entire length of time he'd known her. The sight of her sitting in one of the extremely uncomfortable chairs in the school office, looking her usual 'down to business' self, while dressed in a fashionable grey chiffon shirt, black slacks, and fancy lace up sandals, was just downright…abnormal.

Chris wondered if Agent Piper thought so to, because he couldn't seem to keep his eyes from flicking back to her every few seconds. Piper was similarly attired in civilian disguise, wearing a white collared shirt, and a tie that Carter had forced him to wear. He didn't look so out of place to Chris, as he'd seen agents in suits before, but he'd never seen one fidget so much while wearing one.

"Well, Mr. and Mrs.…" The office employee who'd been helping them finish off the last of Chris's enrollment forms paused, checking once more on the name. "Smith."

Chris heard a barely suppressed groan from Carter and a snigger in response from Piper.

"Everything seems in order." The office worker continued, apparently having missed both Carter and Piper's reactions. "If you'll just sign here, Christopher can pick up his schedule in the attendance office and get started!"

"Thank you." Carter said curtly, reaching out to sign her false name on the document, (visibly cringing as she did so), and then handing it to Piper to the same.

The office worker, oblivious to all the barely veiled enmity floating between the two, smiled pleasantly and took back paper. "Well then, that's that! I hope you enjoy your experience here Christopher! It's a marvelous school!"

"I'm sure it is, and I'm sure I will sir." Chris said with a tense smile.

The office worker beamed back, and turned back to the agents. "Well, you're leaving him in very capable hands! You may say you're goodbyes without worry!"

"It's not like he's staying here overnight. " Piper muttered under his breath before a hidden kicked to the shin by Carter silenced him.

The trio stood up, (Piper trying to massage his leg as inconspicuously as possible) and eyed each other apprehensively, unsure of what the office worker was expecting them to say in their '_heartfelt family farewell_'.

"Well… goodbye St—um..son.." Piper said awkwardly, reaching out to shake Chris's hand. "I'm sure you'll make us proud."

"I'll do my best Si—er…_Dad_…" Chris replied, his nervousness causing him to grip the hand perhaps more firmly then he needed to, as he could see Piper was covering a wince.

Carter walked up next to them, and handed Chris a cell phone and a credit card from out of her purse.

"These are for emergencies _only_. Our 'office' number is on speed-dial, number one. _Try_ not to _lose_ them, ok?"

"Yes M'am, um…_Mom_." (This time it was Chris who winced).

Piper gave Chris an perceptive smile, and a small pat on the shoulder. "Well, have fun kid."

"But not _too much_ fun. " Carter cut in with a stern look and a tone that surprised the smiling office worker. "You're here for a _reason_ remember. Keep on task."

"Yeah yeah, he knows '_Honey_'." Piper said, waving off her admonition. "He'll do good."

"But don't do _too_ good." Carter added firmly, earning her stares from the rest of the group, especially the office worker.

"I mean," she hastily clarified, reddening slightly, "Don't _show off_."

Chris nodded, "I understand."

The three automatically raised their hands to salute, caught it in time, and managed to turn the gesture into a brief and very awkward hug.

"Right, well…we…best be off." Carter said as she pulled away. "We don't want you to be late for class."

"We'll pick you up when school ends." Piper called reassuringly as Carter pulled him out the door. "Have a good—well, have a _productive_ time."

There was the closing of a door, the clicking of heels on linoleum as the pair disappeared down the hallway, and then, for the first time in seven years…

Chris St. Just,( now to be known as Christopher Smith) was alone in the world.

He blinked, hefted his new backpack, nodded at the now confused looking office worker, and took a deep breath…

Then he turned the handle, and walked out the door.


End file.
